Her Name
by Solivagant
Summary: Cal is changing offices, and in the process Gillian finds an old picture, one of a younger Cal and a mysterious other woman... Not continuing.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lie to Me or any of the characters, places, etc. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Part of the 1000 Themes Challenge, Number 342**

**A/N: So what I did was I was looking through my notebook, and I closed my eyes and flipped to a random page, deciding that whatever one I picked was the one I would type up and publish. This is the one it landed on, so here it is.**

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**Her Name Was…**

Moving offices. _Moving. Offices_. All Cal's stuff was boxed up, slowly being transferred from his old office to the new, bigger one he would soon inhabit.

He picked up a cardboard box, carrying it across the building and setting it down in the middle of the floor of his soon-to-be office. Yes, it was definitely bigger, and so were the windows for that matter. It would work, but moving everything was nothing more than a major pain in the ass.

With a small sigh, Cal trudged back across the building and randomly grabbed another box. Slowly, he began the journey yet again.

"Hey, Cal!" Gillian called, spotting him,

He whirled around. "Foster."

"That witness of ours is here."

"We have a witness?"

"Yeah," Gillian said, nodding. "His name is Carter Holman. File?" She held it out to him, and he took it. His grip on the box he was still holding was comprised though, and it tilted, spilling old leather-bound books and journals on the floor.

"Sorry," Gillian said quickly, though it wasn't really her fault. Cal grunted, and they both bent to pick up everything. They gathered up all the ragged journals and books, stuffing them back in the box until there was only a black journal left. Gillian went to grab it, and when she did a photo fell out from between the yellowed pages. She picked it up after putting away the journal, frowning at whatever the picture was of.

"Cal?"

"Hmm?" He hadn't noticed the picture Gillian had stumbled upon until she said his name.

"Who's this?" she asked, turning the picture so he could see it.

Instantly, his face hardened into an impenetrable mask. But behind his expressionless face, memories were threatening to overwhelm his carefully built defenses.

The picture that his partner held was of him in his early thirties, one arm around a young woman, the other one out, holding the camera. The woman was Spanish, her eyes bright and innocent, her lips full. Both of their faces were lit up with the most blissful smiles anyone had ever seen. Their faces were turned towards each other, noses hovering a mere half inch apart.

Cal inevitably flashed back to the day.

The camera flashed, and he shoved it in his pocket without so much as glancing at the picture, turning his attention to _her_. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he leaned forward to whisper in her ear.

"I love you, forever."

He could feel her smile. "I love you, too, Cal."

He kissed her then, long and passionately.

Times had been simpler then. The two of them had just been another young couple playing around with Love.

"Cal?" Gillian demanded.

He swallowed, never having taken his eyes off the perfect, smiling face of the young Spanish woman. "Her name was Natalia…"

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**A/N: Continue? Or one shot?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Don't own Lie to Me or any of the characters, places, themes, etc. Nor do I own 'People' or Portofina. No copyright infringement intended. **

**Her Name: Chapter 2**

"Her name was Natalia. She was 21, I was 27 at the time. We... happened to meet in the city, and from there it was much like a classic love story."

"What happened to her?" Gillian asked curiously. She had detected a hesitation when he been saying where they had met, but Gillian dismissed it as momentarily irrelevant.

"It's complicated." Cal's eyes flashed up to meet hers for a split second, but it was enough for Gillian to see that it was a warning, that she shouldn't probe any father. "But believe it or not, her father didn't like me."

"I can believe that," Gillian joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Ha. Yeah."Cal ran his tongue over his teeth, staring off into space. After a moment, he turned to his partner. "Gill, I have to find her."

…

Six hours later they were on a plane on their way to New York City. Emily was going to be staying with Zoe until her father returned from his wild goose chase. The two of them sat side by side in coach, Cal gazing out the window at the waves of clouds stretched out around them, Gillian absently flipping through a copy of 'People' magazine.

"Cal?" she asked, closing it and laying it on her lap.

"Hmm?"

"Do you really think she'll still be in New York?"

"It's a long shot, but one I have to take." Cal could tell that Gillian didn't understand how much he needed to fine Natalia. It wasn't that he wanted to renew their relationship, more that he wanted to make sure she was okay, to know that she was happy. With all the problems she'd had and everything that she'd been through, he just had to make sure.

"But if she's not?" Gillian asked. It was a question that had to be asked, a possibility that had to be acknowledged.

Cal dropped his gaze and shrugged carelessly. "Well then I keep looking, and you can head on home."

"I'm staying with you."

"Are you sure you want to?" She sounded confident of her choice, but it would probably turn out to be a huge mistake. After all, Gillian and Cal were really close, and he wasn't sure how she would react when she found just how deep his feelings for Natalia ran.

She nodded once and leaned back in her chair, picking her magazine up again. "Yes."

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Cal said, fastening his seat belt in response to the pilot informing them of upcoming turbulence.

…

After their plane had landed, the two of them got settled at a Sheraton and headed to the area just outside of New York City itself.

"She was in her third year at Julliard," Cal explained as they stepped out of the cab. "Natalia… She wanted to be a singer – practiced all the time, too. Yeah, when she sang it was like… like…"

"I know," Gillian said. She didn't, not really, but this was a side of Cal she had only seen in the early years of his marriage, a side of him that was unfamiliar and therefore better avoided.

The townhouses they were passing were old and shabby. Windows hung from single hinges, garbage littered the streets, and residents eyed them suspiciously. Gillian moved closer to Cal, feeling safer near him.

"Here," he said, stopping in front of a home that looked identical to the rest. He checked the address and nodded. "This is it," Cal said more to himself than to Gillian.

He led the way up the path and the two cement steps to the front door. Gillian followed, letting him rap on the door as she glanced nervously around. For a moment the house was silent, but then heavy footsteps pounded down the stairs. The door flew open and they were looking at a very guarded, distrustful man. He held a cigarette in one hand, and a beaten wooden baseball bat in the other. His face was wrinkled, his hair completely gray. Hard, black eyes darted from Cal to Gillian.

"You cops?" he asked gruffly.

"No, we're not. Does Natalia Mendez live here?" Cal asked, placing himself between the man and Gillian.

"Mendez…" The man scratched his head, swinging the bat from side to side. "Lived here 'fore me, I think." He shrugged, an amused smile spreading across his face. "The old man was a druggie, he was. Got busted for coke, 'n he stole a car." Laughing, he closed the door in their faces.

Cal gazed it for a moment, calculating something in his head.

"Cal?" Gillian said to get his attention.

"C'mon, luv, it's about dinner time," he said, blinking and heading back down to the street.

They took a cab to the Bronx, getting dinner at a classy Italian place called Portofino. The wait wasn't too long, and they were seated within fifteen minutes. The food was excellent, the drink even better.

"What do you plan on doing now?" Gillian asked after Cal had paid the bill. Most of the previous conversation had been meaningless topics that neither of them cared in the least about. They had both been avoiding the inevitable, the awkward conversation that would surely follow.

Cal took from his near empty wine glass, though his fish remained untouched, and leaned back in his chair, assuming his signature stare. "Why do you care so much?"

"Because I'm your friend, Cal, and I don't want to see you hurt."

"It's going to take a helluva lot more than you and your psychological bullshit to get me back on my feet by the time this is over. Beer would help. Maybe whisky. Whatever gets me drunk fastest."

"I seemed to help when you left Zoe all those years ago," she countered, meeting his gaze.

"You never found the brandy in my office." Cal stood, pulling on his coat. "That man said Mendez was a criminal, right? Criminals have files, and files have addresses."

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EDIT: A/N: Tried for continuation, but you can see just as well as I can that this isn't going to be going anywhere. So, I bid thee farewell.


End file.
